


It's Always Been You

by Madame_Hatter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Romance, Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Confessions, Crushes, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Bokuto Koutarou, One Shot, Pining, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Hatter/pseuds/Madame_Hatter
Summary: Akaashi knows Bokuto likes him and patiently waits for him to confess his feelings (and maybe gives him a hard time about it).
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119
Collections: My favorite haikyuu fics





	It's Always Been You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleMissHeartfillia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissHeartfillia/gifts).



> My first Haikyuu fic! BokuAkais one of my favorite ships and I couldn't get out of my head just how dorky they are together. So, here's a little something cute. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to LittleMissHeartfillia for all the encouraging words!

Akaashi prides himself on a lot of things. He’s smart and logical. He can make an expert judgment call in a split second. He’s a hard worker. Reliable, trustworthy. He’s the youngest in his friend group, yet he’s undeniable the most mature. He’s extremely well-liked, mostly for delivering well-timed jokes and staying composed under any circumstance.

Even when a disheveled Bokuto shows up panting at his doorstep, Akaashi doesn’t even flinch. 

Yes, panting.  _ Hard _ . Doubled over and wheezing. The muscles around his shoulder blades are taut and glistening with sweat. His usual salt-and-pepper spiky hair is matted and drenched. 

Akaashi sighs. How Bokuto can look so devilishly handsome while he’s gasping for air and dripping all over his family’s tatami mats is beyond him. 

“Bokuto, what are you doing here?” Akaashi asks, wiping his hands on his apron. He’s lucky he shut the gas on the stove off. Knowing the ace of Fukurōdani, this could take a few minutes.

Bokuto puts his hands on his hips and lets out one final exhale. “I…don’t know?” he admits.

“Huh.” Akaashi crosses his arms, not really surprised by his response. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not really.” Bokuto scratches his chin thoughtfully. “I think I just got this feeling that I needed to see you. Are you busy?”

While Akaashi’s face remains deadpan, his heart flutters wildly inside him. “Nope.”

“Oh - nice.”

A couple of minutes of silence pass. Bokuto fiddles with his wristband, idly looking around. Eventually, he starts to awkwardly swing his hips left and right in a sort of quiet restlessness. Akaashi merely stares. He’s actually surprised Bokuto’s kept him waiting for as long as he has, being the chatterbox he is. Fortunately, Akaashi has the patience of a saint.

“Are your folks home?” Bokuto finally asks, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

Akaashi raises his eyebrows, trying his best to hide his smile. “They’re gone for the long weekend.” 

“So, it’s just you? All alone?”

“Yep.”

“By yourself?”

Akaashi’s fingers twitch.  _ Don’t laugh, don’t laugh. Keep it in.  _ “Yep.” 

The faint sounds of children playing can be heard in the apartment below. A delivery person walks by carrying two large boxes of pizza for a neighbor a few doors down. Akaashi continues to wait.

Bokuto presses his lips together, which is a pretty strange gesture for him. Akaashi can’t help but also find it slightly amusing. Clearly, Bokuto’s making a lot of effort to hold back whatever he wants to say. And if Bokuto’s going to work so hard at something, then Akaashi’s only job is to make things even more difficult for him. 

That’s what friends are for, right?

“Okay, well, good night,” Akaashi says, pulling the door close.

“Hey!” Bokuto grabs the side of the door with both hands to keep it open. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going to have dinner.”

“Without me?!”

Akaashi is thankful he’s so practiced at refraining his facial expressions. It’s partly what makes him such a great setter and largely what makes teasing Bokuto so much fun. 

“That’s the plan,” replies Akaashi, pushing Bokuto away, though half-heartedly. 

“Wha - wait. Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Bokuto drops his arms. There’s a full pout on his lips which Akaashi secretly loves. “I ran all the way here from school.”

Akaashi narrows his eyes. “That’s nearly six kilometers.”

“Yeah. I know. I ran it.”

“Half of it is uphill.”

“A really  _ steep  _ uphill,” Bokuto corrects. “So, it was really like 10 kilometers.”

Akaashi smirks. The fact that Bokuto sprinted here from Fukurōdani just because he “felt like he needed to see him” sends chills up his spine.  _ God, he’s cute _ .

Akaashi has known his feelings for Bokuto for quite a while now. It’s only recently he discovered that the feelings are mutual. Never wanting to outshine him, Akaashi has been waiting for Bokuto to make the first move and wonders if tonight’s the night.

“Bokuto, would you like to join me for dinner?” Akaashi drones despite the fact that he’s practically squealing inside.

“Hmm. Well, now, let me think about it -”

“I’m closing the door now.”

“I’d love to!” Bokuto steps through the crack in the door, but Akaashi stops him with a gentle push. 

“Wait,” Akaashi says, using his apron to wipe Bokuto’s sticky sweat off his palm. “I’m not having you come in like this. Go home and change first.”

Bokuto’s mouth hangs open. “I live at the bottom of the hill!”

“I’m aware.”

“Just let me take a quick shower here,” Bokuto begs. “You have clothes I can borrow, right?”

Akaashi pauses. Bokuto’s cheeks turn a deep red, his eyes widening. 

Normally, hitting the showers after practice or a match is no more than a cleansing ritual for the worn-out volleyball players. But, Bokuto is suggesting showering at Akaashi’s  _ home _ . Which will involve him being naked in Akaashi’s private domain.  _ Naked _ . And wet. And rubbing himself in all sorts of places. 

“Okay, fine.” 

Akaashi quickly spins around in an attempt to hide his own blush. He may have said that a little too quickly, but he didn’t want to risk chickening out at the last second. He grabs a pair of spare slippers and leaves them in front of the entryway while Bokuto kicks his shoes off. 

“Do you remember where the bathroom is?” Akaashi asks, his back still turned and trying very hard to shake off the mental image of Bokuto nude.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Feel free to get cleaned up. There are fresh towels in the cabinet. I’m going to check on the food.” Akaashi heads for the kitchen, anxious to have a moment to collect himself.

“Wait, Akaashi - what about clothes?”

“I’ll leave some on the counter for you,” Akaashi quickly replies before retreating to the kitchen. He listens to Bokuto’s footsteps disappear down the hall and waits for the sound of the bathroom door to close before letting out a deep breath.

Akaashi remembers the exact moment he fell for his friend. Well, the moment he realized it anyway. He still laughs at how ridiculously cliche it is, but he can’t deny it. It wasn’t during a volleyball match or anything big like that. It happened at lunch one day a few months back during an ordinary conversation Bokuto has probably forgotten. It was a small thing, but for Akaashi it’s the moment he’s been reminiscing about every night before he sleeps.

_ “AKAASHI!” Bokuto practically yelled his name from across the cafeteria. Akaashi pretended not to hear as Bokuto marched to his table. “Akaashi, did you see the grade I got in English? I texted it to you.” _

_ “How could I not? You also made photocopies of it and plastered them all over our club room,” said Akaashi as his friend plopped onto the seat next to him. “Look, I’m glad you passed, but is 49 really anything to write home about?” _

_ “Uh - yeah, dude!” Bokuto unfolded the crinkled exam and held it triumphantly in the air. “You helped me study for an English exam - and we’re not even in the same friggin’ year! You’re amazing! Your tutoring was like...I don’t know. Magic. It made me smarter.” _

_ “You  _ are  _ smart,” Akaashi pointed out. “It wasn’t magic. You just studied hard. It was all you.” _

_ “No,” said Bokuto more seriously than Akaashi anticipated. “No, Akaashi, it was  _ you _. Why is it always you, Akaashi? Why are you always the one who makes me better?” _

After a few minutes, Akaashi regains some composure and starts to walk to his bedroom to fetch a new change of clothes for Bokuto. He sees that the bathroom door is slightly ajar, steam escaping through the slit. Along with the sound of the shower, he can hear Bokuto lazily humming a J-pop tune that’s been singing to the team for weeks. Akaashi smiles.  _ If you don’t confess tonight,  _ he thinks,  _ then I might have to _ . 

As quickly as he can, Akaashi goes into his room and blindly grabs the first random shirt and pair of sweats from his drawers. He uses all his stealth to sneak into the bathroom, lay the clothes near the sink, and creep out without a sound. While lingering a while was definitely tempting, he wanted to keep his composure for as long as possible.

For the next few minutes, Akaashi decides to busy himself by reheating the pot of curry on a low flame and setting the table for dinner. He even opts to use the nicer dishware and lay out some fancy placemats. When he’s done, he studies the table thoughtfully.  _ Hmm. Feels like an actual date. _

“Hey, it smells good in here!”

Akaashi turns around and freezes. This time, he isn’t able to cover up the blush on his face. He didn’t quite realize he had given Bokuto one of his old jerseys. The shirt is tighter around Bokuto’s broad shoulders and when he raises his arms to stretch, the hem sits right on top of his bellybutton. But, it's the fact that Bokuto’s wearing  _ his  _ number - lucky number 5 - that sends Akaashi’s heart racing.

“I, er…um...” Akaashi loses his words for a moment, something that almost never happens. “I might have other shirts that fit better.”

“No, no!” Bokuto protests, pulling the bottom of the jersey down to admire the front. “It’s comfortable. I...like it.”

Akaashi wonders if Bokuto can hear his heart thumping against his chest. “Keep it then. I want you to have it.” The words tumble out of his mouth without him thinking. Akaashi silently scolds himself. 

To his surprise, Bokuto smiles widely. “Whoa, for real? I can have it?”

Akaashi nods, acutely aware of how hot his cheeks are getting.

“Thanks, Akaashi!” Bokuto beams and pumps his fists in the air. The reaction is a tad overdramatic, but Akaashi finds it endearing. “Hey, you can have one of my jerseys, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sweet!” 

At this point, Akaashi is beet red. He distracts himself by stirring the pot of curry with a ladle, even though he’s positive it’s ready to serve. 

“Hey, Akaashi?” Bokuto’s voice is quieter this time, if not a bit small. 

Akaashi tries not to shiver. Bokuto’s vulnerability is rare. By now, the entire team is used to Bokuto’s moods, all of which are fairly loud. Happy or sad, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. It’s the quieter side that catches Akaashi off guard.

“Mmhm?”

“I heard you’re quitting the team after this year,” he says, taking a seat at the table. “You know, after the third years graduate.”

Akaashi doesn’t turn around, but looks at Bokuto out of the corner of his eye. “Our first years sure are chatty.”

“So it’s true?”

“I’m thinking about it. Actually, I was thinking of staying on for interhigh, but maybe bowing out before spring nationals.” 

Akaashi shuts the burner off, but looks thoughtfully into the pot. Volleyball is something he loves, but somewhere along the way, that changed. Now, it isn’t just about volleyball. He’s in love with playing volleyball  _ with  _ Bokuto. Without him, he knows the game will just be empty. 

“Why?” Bokuto asks.

Akaashi jumps at how close Bokuto’s voice is. He looks to his right and Bokuto is there, standing beside him. There’s a disappointment in his eyes that makes Akaashi feel guilty. 

“It’s what third years normally do,” Akaashi replies, deflecting the question slightly. He stirs the pot clockwise, round and round, pretending to be busy. “The players who stay on have a reason to. They’re usually extremely talented and devot-”

“What are you talking about?  _ You’re _ extremely talented.”

“I have some skills,” says Akaashi, grabbing the pot by the handles and lifting. “But, I’m nowhere near your level.”

“ _ Akaashi _ .” Bokuto’s volume starts to rise. “Stop talking out of your ass. You know you’re the best setter in Tokyo.”

“Well, Kenma has really -”

“AKAASHI!” 

Bokuto’s booming voice startles Akaashi. His arms swing slightly to adjust his balance, burning his fingers against the side of the pot in the process. 

“Hrrnng...” Akaashi flinches as a sharp pain shoots up his arm. He quickly puts the pot down on the table and balls up his left hand.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto exclaims, stepping towards him. “Are you okay?”

“I just…burned my fingers.” Akaashi holds his hand close to his chest, trying to even out the feeling that his skin has melted off.

“Let me see!” Bokuto reaches for his hand, but Akaashi pushes him away.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not that bad,” he replies, heading for the sink to run his fingers under cold water.

“Oh, come on! Let me see.”

“I’m fine, Bokuto.”

“Stop being stubborn and give me your damn fingers, Akaashi!” Bokuto makes a motion as if he’s going to snatch the setter’s hand, but stops short when Akaashi concedes. 

He knew that even the slightest touch from Bokuto would make him lose it. Akaashi sucks in a breath in a feeble attempt to keep his cool. He watches as Bokuto carefully takes his hand with both of his own. 

“Why are you shaking?” Bokuto asks softly.

Akaashi tries to force his nerves to calm, but the way Bokuto brushes his thumb against his wrist gives him an indescribable pleasure. Very gingerly, Bokuto runs his fingertips across Akaashi’s palm, sending goosebumps along his arm. 

“Bokuto…” Akaashi manages to whisper, but it’s all he can say. It’s all he can think of saying as Bokuto raises Akaashi’s fingers to his lips. 

Akaashi’s eyes widen. Bokuto places his lips on Akaashi’s fingers, kissing each knuckle tenderly. “Better?” he asks between kisses.

“Yeah,” Akaashi breathes, his pulse throbbing wildly.

“Akaashi -”

“Keiji.”

Bokuto locks eyes with Akaashi. There’s an eagerness behind Bokuto’s eyes that Akaashi only sees before a big match. “Keiji,” Bokuto says, his tone low. “What if I told you I liked you?”

Akaashi closes his eyes.  _ Finally. _ When he opens his eyes again, he smiles. “I would say you better follow it up with a real kiss, Bokuto.”

“Kōtarō,” Bokuto corrects, grinning. “And you got yourself a deal.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! In all honesty, I was feeling quite insecure about this one-shot, but it's all in good fun, I suppose? Feel free to leave a comment below and let me know your thoughts.


End file.
